


Stay

by ravenditefairylights



Series: Tolkien Gen Week [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elrond is sad over Celebrian's sailing, Gen, I will expand this, at some point, maglor is being a good dad, reasonably so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenditefairylights/pseuds/ravenditefairylights
Summary: Celebrían has just sailed to the Blessed Realms, and Elrond receives an unexpected visit from Maglor.Written for Tolkien Gen Week





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tolkien Gen Week Day 1, prompt: family.

The rays of pale moonlight found Elrond sitting on his desk.

  
Celebrían had sailed today, first thing in the morning. He knew she did not wish to part from them and that she needed piece and light to heal, but he still felt abandoned. Galadriel and Celeborn were staying in Imladris for the occasion, and were most probably still occupied with keeping company to the children. Elrond sighed. So many losses…

  
There was a soft but certain knock on the door that snapped Elrond out of his sorrowful memories.

  
“Come in.” He called, and his voice sounded beyond weary even to his own ears. Lindir opened the door carefully and slipped inside.  
“There is someone asking for you, Master Elrond.” He announced formally. Elrond groaned.

  
“If it is someone who wishes to deliver his apologies, tell them I will see them tomorrow.” He said, pressing his palms into his eyes.

  
“He did not say what his bussiness is, only that it is urgent.” Lindir replied

  
“No?” Elrond asked and put his hands down as Lindir nodded in confirmation. “Who is it?”

  
Lindir looked uncomfortable and shuffled his feet a little together. “He said he would rather not give me a name, shire. Or a face, for that matter.”

  
Elrond’s curiosity was getting the best of him, and there was a hope rising inside him, one he had not dared believe in for many years. It could not be, but then again, who else would insist in such secrecy?

  
“Send him in.” He decided finally. Lindir nodded, bowed slightly and left as he had come. Moments later another elf walked inside the chamber. He was tall by elven standards, dressed in a plain black cloak that appeared to have endured many hardships. His face, as Lindir had said, was hidden by a hood, letting only his lips and chin show. Remembering courtesy despite his fatigue, Elrond stood up to greet the stranger properly. The elf, however, pulled his hood down carefully with both hands and Elrond sucked in a breath, forgetting for a moment how to breathe.

  
“Ada?” The word rolled off his tongue with ease despite having centuries to use it, his voice thick with emotion and incredulity. He had hoped, and here now his wish had come true. His father was standing in front of him for the first time after Elros’ death,and Elrond found that he there was not a single coherent sentence he could form.

  
"Hello Elrond.” His voice was as he remembered it, soft and musical. There was an undertone of strong emotion, but the tone remained as steady as ever. Maglor Fëanorion always had a steady voice, no matter the situation or his emotions.

  
Three heartbeats was all it took Elrond’s brain to catch up with his eyes, and in a loss of anything else to say, he all but threw himself at the elf in front of him. His black hair were loose, no longer in an elegant braid, and he smelt of salt and the sea. Elrond was only half a head shorter than him now, but he still felt like a child again with his father’s strong arms encircling him. He found himself crying, not knowing how he started but being unable to stop as Maglor held him tigher.

  
“Shhh…. ‘tis alright, all is well. Celebrían will be alright. She will be safe. You will see her again.” Maglor whispered, gently stroking Elrond’ hair murmuring reassurences. Elrond just sobbed harder, and the Fëanorian responded by tightening his arms around him. His voice rose up in a song, one Elrond remembered from his childhood, the comforting lullaby that lulled him to sleep. He let himself be comforted by the familiar tune and his father’s warm presence, letting all his sorrows and troubles of the past few months fade away.

  
Sometime later when Maglor’s song ceased and his sobs stopped, Elrond realized that they had both somehow ended up sitting on the floor.

  
“I did not expect you to come.” Elrond broke the silence first, looking into his father’s blue eyes that had been burdened with sorrows as the ages passed.

  
"I did not expect to come either.” Maglor admitted quietly.

  
“Will you stay?” Elrond asked, vaguely aware that he sounded like a frightened child being comforted after a nightmare. Maglor graced him with one small, gently smile.

  
"If you want me to.”

  
“I do.” Elrond nodded to emphasize his point, and just barely manged to catch himself before yawing. But Maglor had dealt with many children, even if that a long time ago, and he understood the hidden fatigue nonetheless.

  
“You should sleep.” The ancient elf suggested, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

  
“Okay.” Elrond was far too tired and drained to care how childish he sounded, how un-lordly of him it was to just wrap his arms around Maglor’s waist and snuggle up against him, with his head settled on the crook of his shoulder. Maglor’s melodic voice filled the room again, and Elrond did not fight against the sleep that was claiming him, only closed his eyelids and sighed.

Content. Safe.


End file.
